


Fever (Hold Me Tight)

by Siria



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-16
Updated: 2010-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-07 07:58:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'm sorry," Jennifer said for what must have been the eighth or ninth time. "I have terrible timing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fever (Hold Me Tight)

"I'm sorry," Jennifer said for what must have been the eighth or ninth time. "I have terrible timing." She accepted the mug of steaming stout tea that Ronon handed to her, curling her chilled fingers gratefully around its warmth. Lagahnu Fever wasn't fatal to people born and raised on Earth, and it hadn't made any expedition member lose their memory yet, but it had settled heavy in her chest, making her bones ache and her head spin whenever she tried to get out of bed. She'd tried to sit at her desk earlier—if she couldn't be in the infirmary, she could at least get some paperwork done—but her knees had buckled halfway across the room and Ronon had flat out forbidden her from getting up again.

"It's okay." Ronon checked her temperature by pressing the back of his hand against her forehead. "Little better," he told her, before he shucked his trousers and his top and crawled under the layers of blankets to lie beside her. Even nude, he was like a furnace, heat that Jennifer could let herself relax against, and his hand was a comforting, warm weight against her belly.

"No, it's not," Jennifer protested through a coughing fit. Ronon took the mug away from her and set it on the bedside table before she could spill it all over yourself. "I went and got sick on your birthday."

"Maybe." Rodney had converted the Satedan calendar into Earth dates as best he could, but there had been a couple years in the middle of his Running when Ronon had lost track of dates and times—this date had been selected as compromise between Rodney's sense of perfectionism and Ronon's indifference. "Not like you asked to get sick."

"Still," Jennifer said, curling up around him and resting her head on his chest. Here, she could feel the familiar, strong thump of Ronon's heart; it was a comfort. "I suck. You should be having cake, and a party, and some of those streamer things. Mocking Colonel Sheppard when he has three beers and starts singing Johnny Cash songs. You know, traditional Atlantis birthday stuff."

"Jennifer." Beneath her cheek, she could feel his voice rumble through his chest. His fingers were very gentle when he tucked a straggling lock of sweat-damp hair behind her ear. "Sleep."

"Too cold to sleep," Jennifer mumbled, but the shivers that had wracked her earlier were already fading away, lulled by Ronon's presence beside her. How lucky she was to have found him. "Thank you," she told him, her eyelids growing heavy, and she let herself drift off to the feel of his hand rubbing slow circles on her back; to the sound of his voice in her ear, whispering the rhythmical Satedan syllables that said _love you, love you, love you_, in time with the beat of her heart.


End file.
